So Life Continues
by MonsterV
Summary: Takes place sometime in Season 8. Dean and Cas are back from Purgatory and Sam is back out of his stay-out-of-hunting funk. They're a team again, but what's going to happen when Sam learns of the nature of Dean and Cas's relationship? Established Destiel. Rated M for language, violence, and male/male sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

Takes place sometime in Season 8 (not canon). Dean and Cas are back from Purgatory and Sam is back out of his stay-out-of-hunting funk. They're a team again, but what's going to happen when Sam learns of the nature of Dean and Cas's relationship? Established Destiel. Rated M for language, violence, and male/male sexual situations. This is sometime between my Teaching An Angel To Be Human story and my Unexpected Expectation story.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"You're back on a dry spell?" Sam asked, as the two brothers headed out of the bar they'd visited.

"What?" Dean asked.

"That girl. She was interested and you blew her off." Sam explained, pointing back in the direction of the bar unnecessarily.

"Not my type." Dean replied simply.

"I didn't even know you had a type besides female and hot." Sam said, suddenly surprised.

"Dude, I have a type. Everybody does." Dean was sure of himself when he said this.

"Oh really. Tell me, what's your type? Since you're suddenly so deep." Sam waved his and as if offering Dean the floor.

"Not just to sleep with?" Dean asked, and when Sam nodded, they were on the same page, which struck a nerve with Sam. The two rarely talked about Dean's feelings on love and partners.

"I don't know. Flawed I guess. So I would still know what was real and what wasn't. Someone that could hang with this shitty lifestyle, would have my back without me having to worry too much about their safety. Not being worried about being cheated on would be nice. Ya know? I would like the feeling of trust there, someone devoted to me. Strong, but soft. Smart, without being a bitch about it. Funny without trying to be. And I'm a sucker for blue eyes, smooth skin…dark hair…perfect lips." Dean finished, biting his lower lip.

Sam laughed. "Dean, you just described Cas."

"Sure Sammy, _perfect lips_? Should I have thrown 'nice ass' in there for ya too?" Dean replied, laying the sarcasm on heavily. "Wait- why the hell are you looking at his lips?"

"I wasn't. It seems like you were." Sam said casually, "talking about them being perfect."

"No, you just said he had perfect lips." Dean argued, losing ground.

"I did not. I was saying that the other stuff you were saying sounded like you were describing Cas. Forget the lip thing. You're the one that said he had a nice ass." Sam was looking smug with himself.

"No. I was being you, Sammy. It's called imitation." Dean excused, face flushing.

"I didn't say anything about his ass. Just lips." _Though his ass is gorgeous, _Sam thought, remembering having stared at it before his brother and close friend went to Purgatory.

"Which led to my question, Sam. _Why_ are his lips on your mind at all?" Dean demanded again.

"Calm down. I'm not trying to steal the last slice of Angel Pie on Earth." Sam laughed, patting Dean's back playfully.

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied. It had been a long time since they'd resorted to this. It brought back old times.

"You know that's not what-"

"I know. Relax your sphincter. Your perfect version of a *scoff* girlfriend sounds very hot." Sam assured. Even then, he never saw it coming. Let's just say Sammy was slow.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

They didn't even notice when Sam opened the door to enter the room, but to their defense he could move around very quietly if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to sneak up on what he was about to see. Had he known, he would have knocked and waited patiently until his brother opened the door to let him in. When he tested the knob, the motel room door wasn't locked, so it seemed safe enough. He couldn't have been more wrong.

They'd been so busy ever since joining forced again once Dean and Cas made it out of Purgatory together. Sam ignored how human his friend appeared to be upon seeing him again, and how weird things happened to be between all of them. It was slowly going back to normal, so anything that happened in the past stopped mattering to Sam. The group was on the road again, doing one of their cases that usually only Dean and Sam did together, but Cas found himself more in need of the company of his friends, so he tagged along. There'd been poltergeist activity in North Carolina, and the more-human-than-not angel got to see first hand the action the Winchesters saw on a 'normal' case. It was enthralling.

Now the team was taking a break, stopped off at a motel like usual. Sam left Dean to do research, which he told himself was an awful idea. Dean never did research right. He was so lazy about it, but Sam felt the grumbling in his stomach tug more prominently than any desire to do research. Since his brother wasn't hungry (weird), Sam had the green light on leaving to get food.

Entering the motel room again, he could literally have almost felt his mouth drop open and his jaw hit the floor. Directly in front of where he now stood was his brother and Cas, in bed, _together_. Dean was on his back with the angel laying on top of him, propped up on his elbows, gently lowering enough to press his lips against Dean's. His brother responded to it, closing his eyes and tilting his head upward into their kiss. It was likely that the two were naked under the blanket and sheet that covered them, they were definitely naked from the waist up. Dean's arms were around Cas's torso, hands flattened against his shoulder blades, guiding the angel's grinding movement.

Sam must have made a noise in his throat, must have taken a loud footstep backward, must have done something to get their attention, because very slowly, blue eyes scanned over to where he stood, obviously looking shocked and foolish.

"Sam," Cas almost whispered.

That would be a trigger word for Dean, who quickly snapped out of his momentary bliss, eyes wide and panicked, locked on his brother.

"Sam!" Dean almost shouted, attempting to sit up, which sent Castiel sprawling to the floor and out of Sam's view with an _oof_ type sound, dragging the sheet down with him, having it caught around him. He was back up in a moment, gripping the sheet to wrap around his waist in an attempt to cover his nakedness. Dean already took the comforter to cover himself and both men were now standing awkwardly in the motel room. Dean stepped forward to try calming Sam, but the younger brother's eyes widened even more, putting up one hand to signal his brother not to come any closer.

"What the Hell, Dean?" Sam asked, very confused and slightly overwhelmed.

"It's not what you think, man." Dean started, opening his mouth to say more but Cas interrupted his thoughts.

"How is it not what he thinks? He probably thinks we were about to make love." He asked gruffly, hand clutching his sheet to keep it up.

"Okay, it's exactly what you think." Dean corrected, embarrassed, reddening in the face.

"Dean…really. This is kind of disrespectful, even for you. Are you drunk?" Sam started. He had the wrong idea, but what was he supposed to think? His brother never told him about having any kind of relationship with Cas. Naturally, he assumed he'd walked in during one of Dean's fleeting one nighters.

"I love him, Sam." Castiel started to explain, which shocked the younger brother even more.

"Great, Dean. Did you know that part before getting him into bed with you? He's not a toy, dude." Sam couldn't help it. He still saw Cas as an angel of the Lord, and therefore innocent and easy to take advantage of. "Really, fine time to experiment with your sexual preferences. You couldn't have done this to somebody you're not going to hurt?"

"Sammy-" Dean started. He really had no idea what to say. Yes he planned on telling his brother about he and Cas at some point. This was not the right time for him to find out that they were together. He'd wanted to break it to Sam gently.

"Sam, please. I know what I'm doing." Cas assured.

"Cas, don't be stupid. You know him. You've seen what he's like. Answer me, Dean, are you drunk?" Sam asked, motioning at his brother when he said this.

"Calm down. You don't understand. Please, let me explain." Cas tried again, earning a scoff from Sam, and then silence.

"Dean and I, well, this relationship isn't new. We've been 'seeing' one another for some time now. We first expressed our love for one another years ago, back when Bobby was mourning over Karen's second death. We'd kissed after that carnival we went to, the first night I drove the Impala, but at that point Dean was intoxicated, so I asked him to wait until his head was clear. I've been bound to him since the very day I brought him up from Hell. Our profound bond is more than just words. Slowly, we started to become each other's other half. We're in love, Sam."

"Really? All this time, and you didn't tell me?" Sam started, feeling left out, still letting the shock of the situation seep into his brain.

"I did, once. But that was before your soul was restored and you forgot everything. Dean wasn't comfortable telling anybody about us. Especially you, Sam. He was worried about how you'd react. He thought maybe your opinion of him would change. I'm very sorry. Truly, I am. I wanted to tell you. _We_ wanted to tell you."

"Is that true?" Sam asked, softening slightly, eyeing his brother who was now looking down at the carpet in shame. His cheeks were still flushed and his eyes held that deep look they always did when he felt that he was about to be horribly disciplined. He didn't speak, but when Sam addressed him, he nodded.

"Dude, I can't help but be surprised. I mean, he always liked women before. This would be like him suddenly liking something more than pie. A cucumber, for example." Sam motioned at Cas when he said 'cucumber' and the angel double-checked his sheet without meaning to, just to make sure it still covered all.

Dean tried not to laugh at the semi-accurate depiction there, and Sam continued his speech.

"You've been together all this time?"

Cas nodded, before explaining, "Yes, in a sense. We have had our bouts, like when he left me for Lisa," the angel glared over at the older brother momentarily, before turning back to Sam and continuing, "but more often than not, we have been together."

"Is that why you were so mad over Lydia that time?" Sam asked, remembering the fight that Dean and Castiel had after Sam accidentally mentioned it. They said they were fighting over something else, but the way they looked at each other said otherwise. It was another violent night, and the two of them went at it like drunk Irish men, fist fighting and tearing the motel room apart.

Cas nodded, breaking his gaze from Sam's. He'd forgiven Dean for that, but it still hurt to think about, more than it hurt to think about Lisa.

Dean stood there for a moment, thinking about how unlike his nightmares this had been. He'd had dreams about what it would be like if Sam were to find out about his hidden sexuality, and these dreams were always frightening and violent.

"On and off, for three years. And I thought Dean had commitment problems. You should feel pretty special, man. He never stays that long with anybody." Sam started, trying not to laugh out of confusion. This whole conversation was bittersweet.

"Cas, I gotta ask though, you said you're in love. Are you sure that you're…" Sam started, moving his hands in a circular motion as if trying to turbine the right words into his brain.

"In love with him?" Cas offered. Sam nodded.

"Yes. I know what it means. He is everything to me."

"Then don't hurt him, man. I can see that he trusts you. And if he loves you, that would be the first time he's loved anyone. He needs somebody. And if you've kept him interested in you this long, something must be right there. But don't get hurt either. What I mean to say is, Dean, are you sure about this? I know its none of my business, but neither of you deserve to suffer. I mean, you've been through enough."

"Sammy, this thing doesn't seem like I want to stop. I mean, I could *tap* that." Dean was really trying the best that he could. He was nervous, and nothing was coming out right. He wanted to say, "Yes, Sam. I love him. I want to be with him until I die." But something about his manly nature wouldn't let that come out. He had to maintain at least some form of dignity, standing in the middle of the room, almost nude.

"Like, forever?" Sam asked, the excitement not hidden in his voice.

"No, that would cause chafing." Dean answered smartly.

The two brothers laughed for a moment, and then Dean went back to being unsure of himself, not knowing where to go in the conversation.

"Please tell him that you're not mad at him. He truly needs that." Cas pleaded gently, motioning to the man he loved, who was still looking down, humiliated at what he'd been caught doing. He loved Castiel, more than anything, but years and years of judgment and abuse by his father, the man that brainwashed his life, was enough to send him into fits of shame. He thought maybe John managed to make up Sam's mind for him many years ago.

"Dean. You're my brother. I want you to be happy, man. I'm not mad. I'm not grossed out. I mean, I didn't want to walk in on you two, but I never wanted to walk in on you with girls either. I'm totally surprised, but I shouldn't be, now that I think about all you and Cas's awkward eye-sex moments. There were so many hints."

Dean chuckled, then stopped and sniffed for a moment, placing a hand on his hip like he did when he was hiding a wave of emotion.

That part was true, the signs were pretty obvious. Everybody made cracks about Dean and Cas, and the bond that they shared. Esther, Crowley, Balthazar, Hell everybody talked about it. Meg was 100% sure of herself when she mentioned their relationship not being platonic. Even Bobby joked about it when he was alive. It had been one of the first things that Uriel said that wasn't related to how much he hated humans. Everybody could see it except Sam.

Dean had almost been caught with Cas on more than one occasion. They'd narrowly escaped kissing in front of various friends, and only a short time ago, Sam nearly found them showering together. He'd come into the bathroom to shave while his brother showered, which wasn't unknown to them. Living together almost constantly, it just came with the territory. Dean just had to make sure that Cas was quiet and remained motionless until Sam left, as he'd been unable to fly away.

"Honestly, I can't imagine somebody you'd fit with better than him." Sam smiled. _So, my brother is in love with a man…kind of. An angel-man. He's happy. They love each other. I could get used to it._

"So…" Cas started. "Dean, Sam. I am sorry that it happened this way. So how about we put our clothes back on and get down to business. Or Sam could go take a shower… and Dean and I could hurry up and-"

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed.

"Sorry. I'm too human anymore."


	2. Chapter 2

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

Nearly two weeks passed since Sam found out about Dean and Cas. Things were almost generally accepted and back to normal. They'd gone on just like they'd done before. Team Free Will was almost unaffected by the love shared between two of its members. They'd participated in what they thought was a lead on Crowley in the Penn State area, but nothing came of the case.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Where are we going?" Castiel asked from the back seat.

"We're in Philadelphia. There's this pub that we like to go to whenever we're here." Dean answered. "We're gonna go make some money." He added, winking in the rearview mirror.

"How does one go into a pub and _make_ money?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances and then laughed.

"We should have done this ages ago." Sam said, excited about the night to come.

"Sammy and I both have our tricks. I'm pretty good at darts, and he can hustle pool like a fool. We take bets, see?" Dean started to explain. "Now that we have you, our marker is gonna go up."

"What can I do?" Cas asked, not sure at all where his human was going with this.

"All you gotta do is go in, and be Cas the Bass."

"Why am I Cas the-"

"Cause you can drink like a fish." Dean clarified before Cas could finish his question.

"I don't know what part of that statement to correct. Besides, how is drinking going to help? Don't drinks come with a price tag?"

"Take bets. You're gonna go in, find some guys that think you can't hold your liquor and then bet them that you'll be able to drink more than they will. Winner takes all." Dean continued, grinning broadly at his wonderful idea.

"That hardly seems fair. I can still drink a considerable amount more than a human before I even become warm inside." Cas said, morals weighing into the equation. He remembered the time that he drank an entire liquor store. If Dean hadn't told him that everything inside was insured, he would have felt horrible for the Korean couple that owned the place.

"Yea, babe. But they don't know that."

"So I'm going to scam people."

"Scam is such a strong word. You're just plain better at what you do."

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Bishop, you do not want to fight with me. You're so intoxicated that you can barely stand. How are you going to explain to your parishioners if you attend your sermon tomorrow hung over _and_ injured?" Cas asked the man sitting across from him. He'd done what Dean said and started challenging people to attempt out-drinking him. The Bishop was his third challenger, an Irish man clearly about as young as Cas's vessel would be today.

"You make a good argument." The man slurred. He wasn't even supposed to be drinking in the first place. His church highly frowned upon it.

"Hadn't you better go home and sleep this off?" The man in the trench coat asked.

The bishop nodded. At first, he thought that he was possibly being tricked. The man across from him didn't look any different from any other man. He'd watched two other men be out-drank and figured that this guy couldn't possibly take in enough alcohol to out-drink a third man. But he seemed unharmed by his excessive drinking. Now, after he'd already become angry, this same man he was losing his money to was calming him down out of a fight.

"Here, call yourself a cab and get some sleep." Cas offered, stuffing a handful of bills into the bishop's coat pocket.

"Thanks. You're an angel." He mumbled.

"No, I'm just a man." Cas replied, looking around suspiciously, before the man stumbled out the door and the angel waited for his next challenger. He took a moment to scope out the room. Dean looked like he was having a good time, talking to a blond woman that he'd apparently been familiar with. Sam was standing at his full height, a monster of a man, using his pool stick to stretch his shoulder blades. It was amazing that he managed to keep energy in his massive form, being that he ate a lot of salad, and not enough protein.

Sam made his way over shortly afterward to check on his friend.

"How ya doing, Cas?"

"Well, I'm going to Hell, that's for sure. I just lied to a holy man, and aided him in becoming intoxicated." Castiel replied, eyeing Sam for any legitimate response.

"Come on. Lighten up. Holy men are the funnest to lie to. I can't think of a better way to start the day. Wake up, have a cup of coffee, lie to a holy man."

"Maybe I'm just old-fashioned," Cas started, watching Sam air-drum to the song that was on the radio.

"_You've been…thunderstruck."_ Sam sang. ACDC, Cas thought Dean called it before. _"Thunderstru-UCK!" _He yelled, only inches away from his angelic friend, breaking his concentration.

"Sam, please." Cas jolted away from the sudden loudness.

"Hey, Moose! Come play me." An older man yelled from one of the pool tables.

"Gotta go, that's me." Sam said, patting Cas on the shoulder as he left to take the challenge.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Dean?" A familiar voice called.

The older Winchester brother's eyes followed the sound, noting a waitress approaching him. He'd met her before when he and Sam stopped by on their travels. She was the typical image of pretty, blond, thin, provocatively dressed. She came and sat across from him, patting his shoulder affectionately.

"Hey! Melanie." He remembered, tipping his beer toward her before taking a sip.

"How have you been? It's been forever. How's your brother?"

"Sammy? He's right over there." Dean pointed. It was good to see a familiar face. It was good to see that this woman was still above ground. She was a tough broad considering what she'd seen and been through only 8 years ago.

The two of them chatted idly, before Melanie asked:

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

Dean smirked to himself for a split second and turned his gaze to Cas without realizing that he was doing it. Melanie followed his gaze to where the coated man sat, now drinking shot after shot with a tattooed, leather vested man that he appeared to be having a good time with. Melanie noticed how strikingly blue the smaller man's eyes were when his gaze met Dean's. He smiled and did the thumbs up sign, winking once. The waitress looked back at Dean, sitting in front of her smiling like a school girl with a crush. The biker asked this well-dressed man how the hell he was able to drink so much, to which a very deep voice replied, "My heritage is Russian, Irish, and Polish. Drinking is in my blood. Hell, drinking probably IS my blood."

"Really?" She asked.

"Huh?" Dean brought his focus back to their conversation. He didn't realize at all that he'd just told on himself.

"You're with him?" She asked, thumbing in the blue eyed man's direction.

Dean paused for a moment. At this point, he had no problem with people he was close to knowing that he and Castiel were together. He wasn't flamboyant about their relationship, not by a long shot, but he didn't hide their love either, when somebody noticed, or when a woman would flirt with him.

He nodded once, taking another drink.

"Really?" She asked again.

"We do share a…uh…profound bond." He replied, smirking to himself at his own mockery of Cas's definition of the two of them.

"I would have never guessed."

"Why?" Dean replied. Everyone had their reason why it was hard to believe. Honestly, the only people that weren't too terribly surprised when it came down to brass tax was Bobby and Sam.

"You always just seemed to like girls. What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Dean was kind of drunk, so he wasn't stringing on very well.

"Being with another man?"

"It's like…being with my best friend. Pretty cool."

"Even…intimacy?"

"Well, look at him." Dean joked, pointing in Cas's direction again. "Of course. He gets me, totally. No specific times of the month, no hormonal crap. He's…pretty cool. Great ass, by the way. You ever get oral while watching an action flick?" Dean said again, having a hard time making real sense.

"Dean, I'm happy for you. I really am. It's good to see you smile."

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

The night of course had to have a kink in it. That kink came at almost 1:00am, when Dean was heading back to the dart board with a new glass, almost overflowing with beer. He stopped and reached the rim up to his mouth and took a drink before gagging on the mouthful as nearly the entire cup sloshed into his face and down the front of his shirt. _What the hell,_ he was thinking to himself, stepping back a pace before shaking his head and assessing why the hell all of his beer just spilled. In front of him was an angry looking man, also drunk. He was saying something.

"What the fuck, ass?" The guy said, "Watch where you're putting your feet."

_What's he talking about? I wasn't even moving. AHA. That's why my beer is all over me and not in my mouth. His ass wasn't watching where he was going, bumped into me, spilled my beer, and now it's somehow my fault? What a dick._

"You spilled my beer." Dean started, ¾ empty cup still in his hand, cold refreshing liquid now plastering his shirt to his torso.

"Bullshit." The other guy started. Dean looked at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. They guy _looked_ like an asshole. He was about Dean's same size, but had some sort of greasy stuff in his spiked black hair, a v-neck looking shirt on, and some sort of pencil thin douchebag mustache. He was a white man, but something about his speech was weird.

Dean didn't remember what he said to make the other guy angry, but he said something and felt a pressure in the center of his chest that sent him back a couple of steps. The guy must have pushed him, but instead of falling on the floor, he bumped into something solid that caught him in strong arms. He craned his neck upward to see Sam, who helped steady him to a standing position before starting up with the guy.

"Try that shit with me." Sam said to him, less drunk than Dean and much bigger in stature.

"What? You his boyfriend or something?" The douchebag mustache man asked, laughing with his friends behind him.

Sam went to step forward and throw a punch but he felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw Cas there, stepping in front of both he and Dean to face the man they were fighting with.

"As a matter of fact, he isn't." The angel started, dramatically taking a shot of whatever brown liquor he was drinking before sitting his tumbler down on an empty table. "**I'm** his boyfriend."

Dean stood there while the men behind continued to laugh, hearing one of them say 'come on Mike'. Cas and the Mike in question stood making eye contact for a moment. The older Winchester brought his palm to his face in embarrassment, while Sam looked on, excited and wanting to see what happened next.

"Uh huh. Got my attention. You gonna take his ass-beating for him?" Mike asked, stepping forward to where he and Cas were only about two feet apart.

"That's the idea. I take everything else in the ass for him. A beating should be nothing." The angel replied, same serious, alert expression on his face as usual.

"Cas, nah. Come on, let's go." Dean started.

"No, give him Hell, Cas." Sam contradicted, patting his friend on the shoulder roughly. Over the years, Sam and Dean almost switched places in their aggressions. Dean would walk away from a fight if some guy was messing with him, and tended to save actual fights for when somebody caused trouble for a person he cared about. Sam was actually the one that taught Castiel to defend himself. He was similar to Dean in his reasons to fight, and seeing Cas jump in for Dean was inspiring.

Dean reached forward to take his angel's arm and pull him back again, only to have Mike's hand extend to shove him back into Sam again.

Cas's eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and he bridged the gap between himself and Mike, almost growling, "Don't touch him."

"_GET UP-"_

_What the Hell is that sound? Oh, that would be the stereo. Dean did say this place had good music._

"_Everybody gonna move their feet"_

Mike's friends kept saying things in the background, but it all mottled together. Something about going outside, to which Mike was agreeing, telling the smaller man to go outside with him.

"_Get down-"_

"I agree. Let's go outside, _Mike._" The angel offered gruffly, saying the word _Mike_ as if it were a swear.

Slowly, he slid off his coat, bunched it up and handed it to Sam, without breaking eye contact with Mike.

"Sam, you and Dean go wait in the car. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"_Everybody gonna leave their seat."_

"What? Why?" Dean stammered, now confused at the situation.

"Because, I'm going to go outside for a moment…and I'm going to commit a felony."

"_You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City."_

"YESSS." Sam said, leading Dean out of the bar, watching his friend follow Mike out the back door. He heard Mike tell Cas that he just signed his Death Certificate, to which Sam laughed at in a loud and obnoxious manner.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Sammy. He's been gone a while." Dean said from the passenger seat of the car, while Sam sat in the back. His voice held a little bit of panic in it.

"It's only been five minutes. See? There he is." Sam pointed.

Cas was walking briskly around the corner of the building, approaching the car. His blazer sleeves were rolled up, and the white shirt sleeves underneath were bunched, pressing the material up to his elbows. He looked calm wiping something from his hands onto his pant legs and fishing the Impala's keys out of his pocket before getting into the driver's seat of the car and starting the engine, peeling out of the parking lot.

(**Note: Angels may be able to consume copious quantities of alcohol and drive a car afterward without impaired judgment, but you're no angel, readers. So please don't drink and drive. That is all.)

"Cas, you okay?" Sam asked, watching the man driving.

"I'm fine, Sam." He smirked, picking a tooth fragment out of the knuckle of his right hand, flicking it out the window.

"Did he hurt you?" Dean asked, placing a concerned hand on the angel's thigh that Sam couldn't see from where he sat.

"No, Dean. He was drunk and uncoordinated. He…took a beating. Luckily he was seeing two of me, because he kept swinging for the wrong me."

"You didn't kill him, though, right? I mean, we aren't gonna have to run to Mexico?" Sam asked, laughing.

"Of course not. He's alive, but he isn't going to feel very pleasant at all in the morning."

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

The two Winchesters stumbled into the motel room, which happened to be called the Gomorrah Motel. Cas found this hilarious, smirking softly and noting the sweet irony of it. It was classic. "The humor in this situation is…amusing."

Sam staggered over to his bed, which he curled up in as soon as he took off his pants and boots, flipping himself up in the covers like a burrito before closing his eyes. Sam had a good night, and these were the types that led him to a great sleep, being with Dean and seeing his happiness. As his head sunk into the softness of his pillow, he could hear a stereo on in the parking lot. It must have been from somebody's car that they left running while they brought their bags into the room beside the Winchesters'. It was a self-service motel and they didn't have bellhops for anything.

"_Don't bother and lock your door.  
He's out there hollering 'darlin, don't you love me no more?'  
You always, let him in before now didn't you?"_

_Hm, I like this song,_ Sam thought to himself, settling deeper into a restful lay-down and trying to focus on it through the rustling sound across from him. Dean must be getting himself into bed. That must just be the blankets moving as he got under them. His back was to Dean's bed, so he couldn't see.

"_He's just singing that same old song that he always sang before.  
He's the last of the hardcore troubadours."_

Usually it didn't take Dean this long to stop moving around and go to sleep. There came the sound of clothes on floors. Sam heard his brother laugh quietly, a gruff laugh before a moist popping noise replaced it, the sound of lips on lips. Followed by the sounds of hands on flesh. Then soft moans…

"_Girl, better figure out which is which,  
Where for art thou Romeo you son of a bitch?  
You'd just as soon fight as switch, now wouldn't you?"_

"Guys, stop! I'm still awake!" Sam groaned, realizing what was happening in Dean's bed across the room, and damn glad that he decided to sleep facing the wall.

"Shhhh, Cas. I think Sam's still awake." Dean whispered, still very drunk and trying to hold back laughter.

"I told you he was still awake. This was a bad idea." Cas whispered back.

"Go to sleep, Sammy, It's not what it sounds like." Dean assured, doing something that earned a squeak from the man that was probably under him, if Sam knew his brother.

"_He's come to make love on your satin sheets,  
And wake up on your living room floor.  
He's the last of the hardcore troubadours…"_

"Bullshit, Dean. The radio just said something about lovemaking on satin sheets."

"So?" Came a slurred reply.

"These friggin sheets are satin!" Sam sighed, annoyed.

"Dammit, Cas. Quit with your angel-mojo on the radio."

"You know that I can't help it. When angels have intense feelings of- _mmmmm Deannnn_. I can't think when you- _uhhhmmm_ me gusta." The angel broke off his words with a hiss.

"Stahhhhp." Sam groaned again, putting his pillow over his head.

"_He's the last of the all night, do right  
Stand outside your window til daylight,  
He's the last of the hardcore troubadours.  
Baby, what you waiting for?"_

_Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo_

_SONG CREDITS:_

Thunderstruck- ACDC

Detroit Rock City- KISS

Hardcore Troubadours- Steve Earle


	3. Chapter 3

Another songfic?! Yes indeed.

This one is based off of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London. Please enjoy and feed me some review attention. DO EET!

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"This country sucks." Dean muttered, stepping out of the baggage claim and watching the rain pour down through the full length windows on his way to the door.

"We've only been here five minutes." Cas mentioned, wondering how somebody could dislike a place as interesting as London.

"But why us, man? We're U.S. hunters. Didn't they have any fog breathers that could take care of this?" Dean added, gaining him a shushing from Sam, who was looking about to be sure that no Londoners heard his brother's comment.

"Dean, stop being so negative. If one of these people hear you and pick a fight, I'm not going to back you up. You really should learn how to be less of a dick when you're drunk. You might have a few more teeth still in your head." Sam scoffed, already annoyed.

Dean was just a bit jet-lagged, tipsy and cranky. He hated flying, but Cas didn't have the ability to teleport them all across the world anymore. It was too much energy to focus. The plane was the only way to get where they needed to go, and the fallen-angel made sure to keep his other-half supplied with copious quantities of alcohol. His two companions would have rather had him drunk than terrified the entire flight. Luckily the effect of drunkenness was wearing off.

"I like it here." Cas added, and now Dean was the one that scoffed. "London is full of rich culture. The people apologize when they bump you in the street. Give it a chance."

"Let's go find a cab." Sam requested, stepping outside onto the covered entrance of the airport. He scanned the streets, packed with people, cars, and baggage.

"Shit, now it's raining more than ever!" Dean groaned. He was right. The second the threesome stepped out of the doors, the rain intensified twofold.

"Well, you could stand under my umbrella, if I had one." Cas offered sweetly, attempting to lace his hand into Dean's, but the moody human moved away.

"Ella…ella" Sam laughed.

"What?" Cas whispered, thinking this was a secret code.

"It's rainin'!" Sam sang.

"I know, that's why I-" The angel started.

"Oooh baby it's rainin'!" Sam interrupted.

"Sam, why are you calling me an infant?" Cas wondered aloud, eyebrows furrowed.

"Come on, you can't tell me that the Rihanna tribute was an accident." Sam insisted. But of course it was an accident, and the confused looks on his companions faces drove that point home. Neither Dean nor Cas knew who Rihanna was and or why Sam was singing about rain.

"You need to expand your musical play list." Sam added, walking with his clueless teammates to the end of the walkway.

"We can walk it until we find an empty taxi." Cas added, stepping out into the rain with the Winchesters. Right away they went to cover their heads from the heavy rain, but the two quickly realized that no droplets were falling over them. Within a minute, Cas was soaked to the bone, but Dean and Sam remained dry save for their shoes. The brothers exchanged confused looks with one another, but continued to follow alongside their friend.

People busily claimed their bags and either greeted or said goodbye to loved ones, packed cars, and going about their own business. Had anybody stopped to notice the three men heading down the sidewalk, they'd have witnessed a sight unexplained by human beings. The man in the center was drenched, and those on either side of him were dry, lugging duffle bags at their sides. Had anyone taken time to peer a bit closer to the space above their heads, they might think they only imagined the invisible canopy shielding the two men. The way the rain hit the shields traced their shape, which resembled…_a pair of wings?_ But that was silly, wasn't it? Yes, but one could push the threat of insanity aside by rationalizing that the rain almost perfectly took on the form of seemingly transparent feathers.

An angel's wings weren't visible on this plane of existence, planet Earth didn't possess the frequency needed to view such an appendage of celestial strength. Humans were quick to forget things they couldn't see, and the Winchesters were human. It was easy to slip their minds, the fact that their friend had a functional pair of wings protruding from his shoulder blades. Even if the two of them tried, their hands didn't experience the sensation of touching the feathers. The matter wasn't compatible with human touch, so to the Winchesters, Cas's wings didn't exist.

But Castiel could still feel them as well as controlling their movement. At certain times, he could almost fully manifest the limbs, could almost expose silky black plumes. He remembered his first meeting with Dean after pulling him from Hell. The sheer excitement of seeing this man in the flesh caused the heart in his vessel to pang painfully, and his wings opened to their full span, in tune with brand new human emotions. When lightning struck its electric light into the room, their form was clearly visible on the wall behind him.

Today was a similar day. Electricity hung in the air, and though the wings weren't visible and didn't have a direct form, the angel could still focus on their shape, using their span to shield his friends from the cold and possible sickness that being wet and tired could bring.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

They'd arrived at a hotel eventually, and it was actually much nicer than the crappy places they frequented in the U.S. Dean set to work with helping his angel out of soaking clothes, not wanting them to drip puddles into the carpet. The smell of mildew disgusted him more than the smell of rotting flesh.

Sam averted his eyes, unaware of how far Dean would go while they were all in the same room. Apparently as far as he needed to, being that when Sam turned around again, their angel was out of his familiar attire and wore a blanket and underwear instead.

"Dean, I feel naked." He said quietly, prompting his human to pass him a shirt. Pulling it over his head and flattening the warm fabric over his torso, he felt better.

The older Winchester brother stepped back for a moment to appreciate his angel dressed in his faded Boston shirt. The decal on the front appeared to be a mushroom shaped space ship blasting some swirling lights onto the ground below it. But the decal wasn't what was on his mind, it was the material clinging to his angel's form. It was the way his black boxer briefs held his flawless thighs.

Without a word, Dean bit his lower lip, pausing for a moment before stepping forward and claiming Cas's lips. Wrapping his arms around a narrow waist, he didn't hesitate to push backwards, sending the two back onto the bed Dean claimed for himself, a little _umph_ sound escaping from Cas's mouth, growing accustomed to the feeling of Dean's weight bearing down on top of him. The two continued to kiss because Dean wanted to. As long as he comfortable doing so, Cas always agreed. He felt his human's right hand pin his wrists up over his head and the left hand trailed up his shirt.

"Dean." Sam requested.

No response.

"Cas. Guys, I'm sitting right here."

Dean pulled his left hand down and pointed a finger towards the door.

"No, dude. Cool it til later, kay? We have work to do." Sam insisted.

"He's right." Cas whispered, and Dean sat up, irritated.

"Okay, fine. I didn't realize I was related to such a cock-block." The older brother muttered. "Let's get down to business."

"You sure?" Sam added insult.

"Sam."

"Okay, so…sixty-four year old Anita Cunningham was discovered dead Thursday morning due to an apparent wild-dog attack." Sam started.

"_Little old lady got mutilated late last night,_

_Werewolves of London again."_

"What the Hell was that?" Dean asked as he and his companions gazed around the room, hoping for an explanation to the source of the noise.

"_Aaahoo!_

_Werewolves of London,_

_Aaahoo!"_

The three jumped at the sudden noise, and then the sudden ceasing of said noise. Somebody must have had a radio on in one of the other rooms, turning it on and then off quickly.

"I have nothing to do with this music." Cas assured, intense emotions not having anything to do with werewolves.

"Just ignore it. Go on, Sammy." Dean suggested.

"There were reports 29 days ago, the last full moon, in Mayfair. And then there was another report in Kent 29 days before that."

"_He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amok in Kent,_

_Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair,_

_You better stay away from him_

_He'll rip-"_

"Knock it off!" Dean shouted, and the music stopped, the room remained silent for the few moments the threesome sat waiting.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"I swear bruv, I seen it wiv my own eyes." A possibly hung-over woman in a Burberry coat insisted to the moose of a man interviewing her.

"I believe you, just tell me what happened." Sam insisted, dressed up as Detective Jett today. He didn't even attempt to fake an English accent, because he was terrible at it, but the woman didn't seem to notice how much like a sore thumb he stuck out.

"Rite, so I woz 'round the way, bout 4:30 in the morn, coz I woz on me way home from a party. I seen a dog, big black thing. Huge, big as you. It weren't no dog, it woz a monster. Anyway, it goes into an alley n I can still see it. Dog turns into a man! I mean, I woz drinkin, but not shitfaced, ya know? I know wot I seen."

"Do you remember if it was light or dark around that time?" Sam asked, trying to follow along.

"4:30, um…the sun is comin' up round then, innit?" She asked, nodding to herself. "Ya, sun woz comin up."

"And you said the dog turned into a man. What did he look like?"

"Nice hair. Tall…um… dressed nice." She added.

"Anything distinguishing about him?"

"Dis-wha?"

"Anything that would make him stand out in a crowd?"

"Um…sides turnin into a man from a dog? No. Nice hair is all." She repeated. "He woz kinda far off."

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Anything?" Dean asked.

"I might have contracted genital herpes talking to a witness." Sam added.

"Why did you sleep with her if she had-"

"No, Cas. I didn't sleep with her. It was a joke." Sam explained.

"Okay, we went to that um…castle looking thing."

"Buckingham Palace doesn't look like a castle, Dean. And we didn't actually go there, we went to Westminster, but the Palace was in view." Cas explained, and Dean rolled his eyes, as if it were all the same to him.

"Cas talked on the phone to the police in Mayfair and Kent…faking an accent might I add." Dean giggled.

"I didn't know you could do accents." Sam said, interested.

"Of course I can. If I can speak all dialects, I can speak in accents as well." Cas explained. It made sense. As an ancient angel, it was understandable that he had time to learn the languages of human as they developed.

"You know all languages, man?" Sam asked.

"Yes. It's all in the brain, pronunciation is in the mouth. Observe." The angel offered, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out, wagging and flipping it about with the grace of a snake. Unintentionally to him, the movement was very suggestive in its nature, causing the eyes of his companions to widen.

"Um, right." Sam replied. _No wonder Dean's so happy in the mornings._

"This place is huge. How the Hell are we going to find one stupid werewolf in a haystack?" Dean groaned, plopping down into a chair.

"We have clues." Sam started. "Put them together. The girl I talked to said she saw a giant dog change into a man in the sunlight. Apparently the guy had nice hair."

"_I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's_

_His hair was perfect._

_Werewolves of London again"_

"Then there's that." Sam added, motioning to the roof, where the music may or may not have been coming from.

"What's Trader Vic's? Is it like Trader Joe's?" Dean asked, knowing the place because Lisa liked shopping there when the two were together.

"It's a restaurant in California." Sam explained, having gone there once during his college vacation with Jess.

"But we're in London." Cas interjected, confused.

"It's a chain, so there has to be at least one here." Sam explained, looking it up on his laptop. Um…looks like there's only two. At least this search only had two. One's at a hotel, and one is on Park Lane."

"What makes you think this guy is going to just be there when we show up?" Dean wondered aloud.

"Because the song said so." Sam corrected.

"Since when do we follow unexplained noise?" Dean retorted.

"It's all we have to go on, Dean." Cas added.

"It might be a trap."

"It probably is a trap."

"Well, three of us against one werewolf is enough for me." Dean finished, "But first, I'm hungry."

"Well then, to this Trader Vic's then." Sam stood up, grabbing his jacket.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Get something more than that," Cas cut in when Sam asked for some fancy sounding salad on the menu, "You're going to get thin."

"Okay mom." Sam replied, telling the waitress that he also wanted what appeared in the picture to be shrimp and beef cube surf-n-turf. It certainly did look appealing.

Dean got a very tall pork sandwich and a plethora of appetizers to suck down with his beer. The fallen angel didn't ask for any food, as he still hadn't experienced hunger again. Instead he just got a colorful looking alcoholic beverage.

"Here Dean, an umbrella because I didn't have one earlier." He said quietly, sticking the tiny umbrella into his human's shirt pocket.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

Three hours and many drinks later, the time was 12:24am. Dean once again talked Cas into drinking so much alcohol during the bets he took that the fallen angel was actually drunk this time. He couldn't count how much money he won for the group, but it was definitely enough to fund their flight home and then some. His alcohol tolerance dropped significantly in the past couple months. It was still considerably better than any human, but not what it used to be.

"What the- Gabriel?!" Sam called, standing up and taking off to the bar area. His two companions gawked around awkwardly. Sam approached a man at the bar, a short guy, with great hair, sipping a pina colada.

"Hi kiddo." Gabriel replied, being smashed into a hug by the bigger man. Dean and Cas shared confused glances and when Sam finally let go, he looked embarrassed.

"Sorry. I've been drinking. I'm just glad you're…not dead." He explained.

"That's good to know."

"Brother," Cas started, slurring, "Why aren't you dead?"

"Good to see you, too." Gabriel replied. "Come on, I've been a Trickster for a long time. Even Lucifer can't cut through the veil I placed over his eyes. He thought he got me, but luckily for me, I looked very much like a priceless painting hung up on the wall. He never saw it coming."

"So you destroyed valuable art to save yourself?" Castiel asked, appalled.

"Stick with the subject, brother." Gabriel reminded, snapping his fingers and startling the drunk angel. "The subject is me."

"Whoa, wait a minute. You're the werewolf aren't you?" Dean asked, annoyed.

"Bingo, right you are, Deano." Gabriel smiled.

"This whole wild goose chase was you? Again?"

"Guilty. Hope you enjoyed your trip. Ya know, you'd think that you kids would learn eventually. You make it too easy." The angel continued, taking another swallow of his sweet drink.

"But-"

"Why?" Gabriel interrupted Sam. "Well, I had to let you all know that I wasn't completely gone, that you weren't without an ally. But I couldn't put myself back on the grid. They'd be watching for foul play in the states, but here, poof. Nobody bats an eye."

"So how much of this is fake?" Dean demanded.

"Oh, this isn't fake. This is actual London. You're actually here. My brother is actually rocking off his balance drunk. However, the entire scene regarding the werewolf was just me. I was the dead people, who are actually very much not real. I was the police, I was the music you kept freaking out about. And I was the reason you ended up here. Do you even remember why you showed up? Of course you don't, because there was only one reason. The plot demanded it."

"Okay, man. If you weren't an angel, I'd kick your ass. You sent us all on this fake case for nothing! We could have been doing something, something useful." Dean seethed.

"Oh please. I guess you don't want my help then." Gabriel raised his hand to snap his fingers.

"No, wait!" Sam insisted, and his two companions stared at him strangely again, but he ignored it, saying that he would blame it on the drinking again later.

"Can I be of service to you?" Gabriel offered Sam.

"What do you know?"

"Oh…lots. Lots. Hey, what'd you think of that honey I sent you to interview?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow cutely.

"She was…interesting…and gross." Sam answered honestly.

"Gabriel, do you actually have information for us or not?" Castiel asked.

"How should I put this? Don't give up. The angels are in hiding. Don't set foot in Heaven, it's a real mess. And one more thing…that Charlie girl, is she single?" Gabriel threw in.

"She isn't into men." Dean countered.

"Good thing I'm not a man." Gabriel said, taking the shape of a rather attractive brunette woman, actually resembling Jo while not looking identical to her.

"The angels are in hiding?" Cas caught onto only that and the comment about Heaven.

"Am I speaking French?"

"No, English."

"Go see the book guy again, too. That might help you on your search, you know, the _search."_ Gabriel suggested, walking away into nothingness.

"What the Hell just happened?!" Dean shouted. "That didn't help us at all. Let's just friggin go home!"

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

There's that one. I did a little experiment, going with the first idea that came into my head on this chapter and not changing anything around. This is the first draft and this is what came out.


	4. Chapter 4

This is just a short little chapter. I'm going on a little trip next week but I wanted to leave you guys with something. I'll be back at the end of the week. Until then, how about some nice reviews to prompt me to write during the trip?

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Chuck?" Sam called through the crack in the doorway.

"Oh, great. What do you guys want?" The skinny, bearded man groaned.

"Would you mind letting us in?" Castiel asked from out on the porch behind Sam.

"Last time…there was that whole smiting mess, guts everywhere." He answered, seemingly not happy at all to see the Winchesters or their angel friend.

"I'm off the radar as of now, it won't happen again."

"Chuck, either open the door or I'm gonna kick it in." Dean yelled out over his two more polite companions.

Apparently, prophets respond well to threats, and the door slid open. When the three stepped into the room, Chuck closed the door behind them, slowly seating himself in an armchair, cigarette hanging from his lower lip. He looked very much awake, yet very, very tired.

"I didn't know you smoked." Sam observed.

"I don't. Strange, isn't it?" Chuck answered, smiling weakly.

"What's all the..hubbub? Are you on something, man? You look like Hell." Dean's interpretation of Chuck's current state wasn't at all off-key.

"No. It's just… the dreams have been incredibly hard to sleep through. You two," He said, motioning with his index and middle finger like a gun between Dean and Cas, "have a…rather healthy appetite. It's interfering with my everyday life."

"What's he talking about, Dean?" Castiel asked, leaning over to speak more quietly. "He may be right about you, but I rarely eat anything."

"I don't think he means food."

"I don't! Seriously! I can't close my eyes without…" He trailed off, waving his hand about once. "I can't sleep."

"Wait, does he mean-" The angel started, having thought he just caught on, cheeks suddenly flush with embarrassment.

"That's what I mean. I didn't know that one of your missions from…above had anything to do with taking your pants off. You're easily corrupted. Good to know that you're the last one of you around to help my kind." Chuck said bitterly.

"Chuck…my apologies. But I have no control over what's included in your visions. I'm-"

"Hey, how about you shut your hole and suck it up?" Dean defended. "What's going on here isn't really any of your damn business. Now how about you tell is what the hell we're doing here so we can get out of your hair?"

"You know I can't tell you what's going to happen in the future…would you like some mouthwash, Castiel?" Chuck continued, motioning to the bathroom.

"Why?" Sam asked. He was sitting right off to the side of the angel and he smelled nothing. How could Chuck smell anything with a cigarette in his mouth all the way across the room?

"Just that extra dose of protein about ten minutes before you knocked on my door."

"Protein, I didn't…oh." Cas nodded in understanding when Dean smirked, nodding for a very different reason, pride.

"Guys, what the hell, I was in the back seat!" Sam uttered, surprised and confused. Ten minutes ago, the three were in the car, heading down the suburban edge of town, trying to remember the directions to Chuck's house. _I was on that map website. Dean insisted that I listen to the directions on headphones and say aloud every time there was a turn. I was laying comfortably in the back. I had my jacket rolled up under me. I couldn't see over the seat. _

"I'm sorry, Sam. Dean said you wouldn't notice. I didn't know what…what was the term, Dean? Smoking a pole? Yes, that's what it was. I didn't know what that meant and rather than simply tell me that it was slang for fellatio, he decided it would be best if I learned the hands on… or _mouth on_ method." Cas tried to explain not making eye contact with his moose of a friend.

"So wait, are you saying that you see everything we do lately?" Dean asked, embarrassed at the realization that Chuck may or may not have been privy to that little moment at the golf course before Purgatory.

"No, not everything, but lately it hasn't been anything but sex. The last coherent thing I remember seeing was the lot of you taking down that Leviathan. Well done on that, anyway."

"Thank you. The aftertaste of them is still on my palate." Cas answered.

"Stop. I don't want to know." Chuck started, already burnt due to his opinion of the angel changing drastically from back at the first day they'd met. He was stunned back then, and now he was almost like a human.

"I didn't mean it that way." Cas insisted.

"Chuck, another angel told us to come and see you. Is there a reason for that?" Sam asked, trying to break the tension.

"An angel? I don't know why. I haven't had a good vision lately, nothing to tell you really. You'd have as much luck looking for answers in fan fiction."

"Come on, no. Like those LARPing guys?" Dean groaned, having had his fill of that weirdness.

"Are they ever legit? I mean, would following along on any of their hunches be a bad idea?" Sam asked, searching for something, anything to where Dean wouldn't be angry at having made this trip.

"I don't know. They predicted Destiel happening. Maybe if you guys stop having man-sex all over the place, I could curl up with a decent vision."

"Predicted what?" Cas asked, not having heard this new word.

"Destiel. It's a slash term for the romantic relationship between you and Dean." Chuck clarified, as if only an idiot didn't know this.

"Wait, what? The fan fiction people know? Like Becky McCrazy?" Dean asked, even more bothered and embarrassed.

"Yes, people like Becky. Except Becky's fics were of a different persuasion. But given her obsession with Sam, she's heartily shipping the two of you now." Chuck continued his explanation.

"Shipping?" Sam asked.

"It means that they approve of your brother and Castiel. Weird people, man. I tell you. If they seen what I saw, my God- Those freaks would probably enjoy it." Chuck shook his head, bothered.

"So, our relationship is common knowledge?" Cas requested.

"It's in the gospel, in the chapters I haven't released. But everybody knows about it. Fandoms love it, and they approve greatly. I would venture to guess they knew about it before the two of you knew about it. I don't know. I'm not much of a fic reader. But what I do know is this. Generally speaking, they like this set up much better than in Endverse, when this one over here becomes a hippie burn out wrapped in orgies."

"Orgies? Me? Oh my…" Cas looked up at Dean as if this were the most absurd thing his innocent, angelic mind had ever taken in.

"Really? You have nothing else for us?" Sam begged, wanting even the slightest clue as to why Gabriel recommended going back to the 'book guy'.

"Look, all I can tell you is…STAY. IN. HIDING."

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

"Dean, I don't want to take part in an orgy." Cas said quietly when they got back in the car, a safe distance down the road. His eyes were wide and afraid just like the day back at the brothel.

"Don't worry about it. We put a stop to that future from ever happening. You're with me now, okay?"

"I'm sorry about future me."

"Hey, calm down. Future me isn't so hot either. Just be glad that this is the path we're on now, man." Dean assured, trying to calm his angel down. His innocence was so strange in a fully grown man's body. The way he couldn't seem to defend his loyalty deeply enough… it was flattering but watching the struggle and shame it involved was saddening.

"I love you, Cas." Dean offered when his angel failed to speak.

Still, the smaller man just scooted across the car's seat, closer to his human, curling around his arm and resting a head full of wild dark hair on the closest shoulder.

The group drove all night until the reached their appropriate hiding place. Chuck said to stay in hiding, and that's what they needed to do, as stir-crazy as it would cause them to be. Naturally, they'd rather be out helping people and killing things, but waiting for answers was critical.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

The first couple weeks in hiding went surprisingly well. It was quiet and boring, but an enjoyable break until they ran out of food stored in the freezer. Sam decided to sneak out and pick something up at the closest fast food stop, not wanting to be gone long.

"Taco Bell?" Dean exclaimed, motioning to Sam as he came through the door after having blown an entire $30 in the wake of his absence.

"What's Taco Bell?" Cas asked for his place beside Dean on the couch.

"Food. Conveniently, quickly assembled food." Sam explained, sitting one crackly bag down on the coffee table, another squishy bag beside it, and a third bag filled to the brim with flat boxes beside the first two.

"Brilliant." Cas replied, having developed intermittent human hunger as his grace went even further into hibernation.

"Couldn't have picked up burgers?" Dean complained, picking through one of the bags for something that looked half edible.

"Dean, that's all I've put into my face for…ever. Look, next time you go out. I wanted beans, and those twisty cinnamon things." Sam looked annoyed, pointing a tiny burrito at his brother.

-Four Hours Later-

"Sam!" Came a grunt from the direction of the bathroom.

When the mountain of a man finally emerged from where he'd been napping across the house, he cautiously stepped past the bathroom's threshold. The door was left open so he figured that privacy was not important. Upon entering, he noticed directly to his left was their angel clad only in a pair of underwear, curled around the toilet. To the right was a pile of soggy clothing.

"What's wrong?" The human asked.

"I'm vomiting, you ass." Castiel groaned. "Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm sorry. Now please lift this curse from me."

"Curse? What are you talking about?"

"Sam, don't be coy. I've been in here for two hours, and it won't stop coming up. It hurts. If it's about the time I broke your wall down, I think I've repaid that debt." He sat up again, clinging to the rim of the toilet with all of his might, throwing up into it again, coughing, groaning, then laying his head down on the seat.

"I'm not the cause of this, man. I don't have those kinds of powers. It looks like you have food poisoning to me." Sam stepped forward another step, clearing the bathroom on his long legs, kneeling down to pat his friend's clammy back before hefting him up to a standing position. The angel's balance was terribly off, and he stumbled. Sam's powerful hands gripped weak shoulders, keeping his friend upright.

"Let me get this straight. Did you or did you not prank me with some sort of curse?" Cas groaned, leaning his head back against the tile wall.

"Prank? When did you learn the word 'prank'?"

"Dean told me about pranking."

"I don't think he explained the concept very well." Sam started, speaking softly to keep the bathroom from echoing. "Pranking is meant to be a joke. Poisoning somebody isn't only far away from a joke, it might be considered murder as well."

"Murder? I'm going to die? Sam, how could you?"

"No, you're not listening. You're not going to die, man. You got sick. I don't think the Taco Bell agreed with you." The younger Winchester tried to explain, wishing he'd have picked up burgers instead.

"Sammy! What the hell?" Dean was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking to be a dangerous mixture of confused and angry.

Sam cursed himself mentally for letting himself get caught in a situation that appeared to be something it wasn't. He knew exactly how it looked. There was Cas and himself in the bathroom together, their angel nearly naked, pressed against the wall by Sam's muscular arms.

"Dean…dammit. It's not-"

"If you say 'not what it looks like' next I'll kick your ass."

Sam sighed, irritated.

"I'm not doing what…chill out. Okay. You know I'm not into him."

"Then how about you get your damn hands off of him and keep them to yourself." Dean stepped forward, jerking Sam by the shirt away from _his _angel. At the loss of support, Cas dropped back down onto the floor.

"What- did you drug him?" Dean demanded, shoving his brother into the adjacent wall.

"Dean-" Cas started.

"Can it, Cas."

"Dean-"

"No! I'm defending your honor. Sam, what part of him being my cherry pie didn't translate as _DO NOT TOUCH_ to you?"

"Don't talk about food, I'm dying." Castiel called up from the floor.

"He's not dying, Dean. Or drugged. He's got a touch of the Taco Bell poisoning." Sam said as fast as he could, before his brother decided to rant any farther, hoping it didn't get too physical before that.

_I'm. An. Ass._ Dean thought. He nodded simply, understanding how foolish his actions made him appear. "Oh."

"Yeah." Sam agreed bluntly.

"Sammy…"

"No, don't worry about it. We've been cooped up in here too long. We're all pretty restless…well, you are. I'm fine. Not restless enough to cut into your pie, that's for damn sure." The youngest of the group replied.

Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo

Dean spent the rest of that night guiding his angel back and forth from bed to the other bathroom. He got up twice more and then fell into a weak sleep, groaning and tossing about. _I forgot. Back when he was human the first time, he didn't react to dreams very well, either. _He tried to be comforting without waking his Cas, gently stroking through thick, sweaty hair. At Dean's touch, the angel's features softened and his hand reached up and laced fingers with his human's hand.

"_I love…him…my Dean."_ The angel mumbled in his slumber.

"Shh, I love you too."


End file.
